HGO Peter Grimes - starkly retold tale of mad fisherman, starring Anthony D. Griffey 31.10.10

Fourth in a series of the operas of Benjamin Britten, conducted by Patrick Summers and produced thus far by Neil Armfield, this is also the first chance to have seen Peter Grimes at the Wortham Center - Grimes, Britten's second opera, first success at writing one - the earliest composed of collection presented here thus far. Armfield has enjoyed practically unqualified success with both Midsummer Night's Dream and Turn of the Screw and close to as much with Billy Budd, that opened the series in April of 2008.

Peter Grimes however posed a few problems, given concept with which Armfield and designer Ralph Myers commenced. Costuming and acting, updated to time of the work's composition, near end of World War Two, were as realistic and nearly fully believable as before in his work here. Acoustically, this production worked better than recent Grimes from the Met in which Anthony Dean Griffey also played the lead - for not going with wall to place all the way across, near very front of the stage, against which for orchestra and voices to project and ping too much. Where Armfield fell slightly short of the mark here was in treating Peter Grimes as near as much of an abstraction as characterizes Britten’s mid-to-late 1950's Turn of the Screw and Midsummer Night's Dream.

The idea here, though communicated vaguely, of playing Peter Grimes as play within a play - or of approximating such a concept - was not bad – but still one that has been tried before - to varying degrees of success and failure. One had subconsciously to react i to how the people appearing to be playing the real characters on stage were perhaps instead to an extent reacting to doing so as just real people. According to what Everett Evans cited from program notes, there was perhaps a little firsson in catching a group of such players assessing for 'final run-through' of sorts what is each of their best feet forward in getting the audience to react to story being presented as well as possible.

One spent the opening courtroom scene, trying to assess as best as possible, with most of the cast, including Grimes in the front row all arranged in straight rows for seating area, with nobody else so prominently seated as that. Hobson and Swallow, conducting proceedings, got stationed right at front, apart from the seating area. Most chairs during the first interlude were then moved off to have just a few positioned on bare wooden floor of town hall auditorium as one might position them out on a deck.

The set design only became oppressively monotonous for Act Two, Scene One, where perhaps at an angle, some perspective could be allowed to inculcate church facade - perhaps diagonally across one corner extra prop or two to indicate (plan for) town square. Conventionally set, the church facade, combined with voices emerging from behind it create a complete frisson between what is going on inside and then privately roadside. Once set design for the second scene of Act Two, with profile for Peter Grimes's drab hut pulled forward, Armfield's intent then became clear in remaining so abstract for scene previous; the idea still wearied the eye.

Together with Summers more concise and relaxed with this score's often elaborate demands, the opera’s last three scenes worked consistently better than, as all taken together the first four. Just one further allowance that could have been made was to open things up - toward sense of wider space to better indicate some sense of outdoors into which for boy to make his tragic exit - and through which for Grimes to make his final exit too. Long tables brought on and offstage, arranged in various ways, over which got laid out fishing gear, served as metaphorically abstract construct of sorts. Talk, as led by Anthony Freud and Patrick Summers after the show, discussed 'a breaking down of the fourth wall' a la Brecht, yet Armfield’s engagement with the audience seemed timid. Having mysterious silent figure, to represent the original author George Crabbe, eventually making it seem he was directing some of the action onstage, still left whatever concept being played out slightly vague. Not successful was having group of children run pell-mell back and forth across the stage for 'Sunday Morning' - evocative interlude starting Act Two and also to contrast with both the darkness of both preceding storm and dramatic situation to follow. Such gesture only communicated expectation that the audience will be bored, without something to constantly engage the eye.

Even with various problems pointed out here, the acting of both principals and supporting cast on stage, seldom held back, was both realistic and often lively - with costuming (Tess Schofield) very capably complementing expected action on stage. Lighting (Damien Cooper), if conventional, slightly gimmick laced, worked, except for having to cover excessive empty space for first scene of Act Two.

That this was Patrick Summers's first attempt at conducting Peter Grimes was certainly remarkable. And yet revealed again was his way of relying upon as a crutch certain affectation toward especially drumming up what will feed back contrived excitement instead of real. Good color from the brass enhanced atmosphere for 'Dawn.’

What might have made one’ look askance toward orchestra pit was mishandled rhythm at quartet started by Balstrode ('I'll give a hand’ - Act One, Scene One); Summers started clipping it. The lean quality of orchestral forces for this downtown is likely influence toward such perception here. Indication is here - fine here that rope merely got pulled manually across stage – of winding out of rope meeting resistance against a rotating capstan - with Britten marking strings and lower winds with slightly awkward accenting to depict the mechanical resistance.

What could have led Summers slightly astray here was Peter’s light calling out for helping hand right before. I sought out – suggesting Glyndebourne, thus perhaps idea close to mindset of Summers - the EMI Haitink recording. There is a subtle push forward toward end of this passage,, but Haitink slightly more gets marked indication there exactly right. Poise reinstated itself here well before Ellen's 'Let her among you without fault;’ - of which Katie van Kooten made firm entreaty; there are many others with similar bad habits on many prominent podiums today.

Jagged writing for’Storm’ i took on two-dimensional perspective – after exaggeratedly hectic ‘Look! The storm cone’ ensemble, with internal proportions to both passages tentatively profiled. ‘Old Joe has gone fishing’ got pushed excessively - as to apologize for its unbuttoned jauntiness. Most glaring however was hurried coasting through climactic moment right before Grimes enters Auntie’s pub from storm outside – that all got deflated here. Sustaining some integrity through everything was still some grasp of atmosphere and of dramatic situation at hand. All then comfortably fell into place for Summers for the final two acts of Peter Grimes; such issues almost never arose again.

The Passacaglia - opened nobly by viola solo (Eliseo Salazar) - had fine shape. Mystery, solemnity, of ‘Midnight’ to open Act Three was complete, as was the weirdness of the sixth interlude – excusing questionable intonation from violin first stands – and distraught, measured feeling for choral postlude for return to work immediately following the tragedy that has just transpired. Chorus, as prepared by Richard Bado, was consistently excellent, as was also the decision to place the pub band music in first scene of Act Three backstage. Movement about by the chorus for especially the gathering about for confrontations in Acts Two and Three proved the professionalism of also their stage direction evening long.

Anthony Dean Griffey began the role of Peter Grimes as practically just face from among the crowd, betraying on purpose slight nervous unease and struggle to maintain poise on the stand. His early unaccompanied duet with Ellen Orford had the requisite long-breathed legato - making fine shape of this haunting passage. There was here poignantly desire felt to retain some civility in interaction with community at large and good anxiety expressed with recall to Balstrode of the day one earlier tragedy struck.

The only thing that really misfired for Griffey here – moment as cited above prepared weakly by Summers – was ‘Now the Great Bear and the Pleiades’ (monologue), that for dressing it up a bit much with nuance, it then missed the focus, moreover eerie calm it must convey to make its impact. Exits off-stage with the boy - boy running off behind Grimes both into the storm and halfway through Act Two, rang somewhat false. Vocally most of all, the welling up of anger in this Grimes Griffey made something with which to contend during tense scene with Ellen in Act Two. Griffey was conscientious about humanizing Grimes, even while scolding, blaming the apprentice for his own woes; he then found his métier in freely expanding out vocally for berceuse to follow – intimate picture of Grimes from dreams he softly recalls, assessing what should lie ahead.

Groffey’s technique is quite individual –in his broad formation of vowels to help expand out sound below the break – a mild telltale hint of juddery vibrato only slightly intrusive thus far. Above the break, he lightens things just right, even often incisively, as proved very effectively, flexibly true for interpretively triumphant mad scene near the end. His long-breathed legato for both long melisma toward end and reprise of ‘What harbor shelters peace’ during moments of relative lucidity contrasted strongly with intimately detailed picture Griffey painted of imbalance and hysteria - the derangement that has usurped the mind of the lone and troubled fisherman by this point. Sense of helplessness was complete with Griffey’s dazed appearing, almost robotic final exit to sink his boat as ordered by Balstrode. Memories of seeing Jon Vickers in the part thirty-three years ago are not effaced or erased. Griffey however has nobly and very effectively found his own way for both acting and singing this most taxing part.

Katie Van Kooten, Hermia (Midsummer Night’s Dream) here before, portrayed a most sympathetic Ellen, making one feel this near as much Ellen’s tragedy as it is for Peter. She always made a beneficially striking lyrical vocal and stage presence. A little shrillness on top distracted only slightly from nuanced molding of the legato line – including for the ‘Embroidery’ aria. Her acting was most believable – attempt at firm resolve for Ellen to hold her ground mixed with vulnerability in Ellen’s inability to really comprehend what both Peter and she are up against, Among female leads, Meredith Arwady stood out as a blowsy, chesty toned Auntie, with direct, dour, all-knowing humor - at for instance ‘A joke’s a joke’, etc. Catherine Wyn-Rogers, good casting too, had the right look and menace as Mrs. Sedley, but while avoiding going over the top, vocally sounded reticent, held back, perhaps one cut too light for the part. The nieces, Kiri Deomarine, Brittany Wheeler (Houston Opera Studio artists) sang in tune with Ellen and Auntie for their very tricky quartet in Act Two, and made cheeky wit out of all the rest.

Christopher Purves, in his HGO debut, led supporting cast of men with a conventional Balstrode, with keenly observed sense of having been around – sufficient for ability to come up with clearly felt sympathy for Grimes and his plight – and with firm tone seasoned well with bluster or gruffness to entirely fill out the part. Liam Bonner looked dapper as Ned Keene, sang reasonably, physically acted the part well, without giving the apothecary as distinctive a vocal profile as have others. His droll alternating of interaction with Mrs. Sedley and scorn behind her back was spot-on.

Joseph Evans capably served as reticent and polite Rector. Beau Gibson refreshingly sang Bob Boles straight, giving the mugging and blithering that tends to follow Boles around the sick leave it deserves. Armfield and Gibson both found solutions as to how to depict the ridiculous hypocrisy of Boles without making it camp. Camp was a little unavoidable by halfway through Act Three for lawyer Swallow (Patrick Carfizzi), but with plummy tone and right lilt for dance step accompanying him, he effectively pulled off avoiding taking caricature to excess. He sounded stern, firm in interaction with Grimes, right past time the curtain opens. With sonorous tone laced with irony – alongside dependable Hobson (Robert Pomakov) – Carfizzi authoritatively pulled this off.

All in all, even if this drama having been prepared to surreptitiously creep up on one, then later to overwhelm us, this was an honest, forthright interpretation of Britten’s Peter Grimes from just abut all involved – several cut corners aside. Minor carping, criticism aside, Houston Grand Opera proved still quite worthy here of the challenge of having before hosted Jon Vickers, gracing the stage of neighboring Jones Hall for two runs both approximately thirty years ago.

ENO Peter Grimes: Alden and Britten's dark night of the soul

Long expected by now that perhaps the socially correct way to approach Britten’s Peter Grimes is to stress more the poetic side of both the character and work, with sea still forming the dark orchestral backdrop. Tragedy at hand should then just simply play itself out against so much. Some of us got to see wherever Jon Vickers do Grimes; within his very individual approach there still remained much poetry. The affectation of Grimes being sophisticated either socially or culturally went by the wayside – apart from poetic knack to respond as Grimes does to sea, sky above surrounding him. Lyric of Chicago almost ten years ago featured Ben Heppner as Peter. His interpretation halfway effectively emulated that of Vickers.

In the thirty-two years since Vickers did Grimes in Houston – not to discredit Pears – I do not recall running across a performance of this anywhere (more recent than that of Vickers at Convent Garden) quite like what transmitted last week from BBC. No other performance of Grimes has felt led so much by who played Peter Grimes, as happened with Vickers. Here it was instead as led by conductor, producer, excellent Grimes, and strong supporting cast all working very closely together – for English National Opera’s very new David Alden production, with Edward Gardner conducting and Stuart Skelton strongly leading a fine cast. If such could be achieved merely by much loud playing and singing - with wall close to prompter's box against which voices and orchestra can ping - the Met’s Peter Grimes (also in HD) last year represented a high standard. Had ENO settled for this though, you would read something different here.

Benjamin Britten, when he wrote Peter Grimes, had not yet made the advances in his musical language evident in his Cello Symphony, Owen Wingrave, and Death in Venice. While still in his thirties, he had yet to establish himself, while already a very socially controversial figure. Edward Gardner set out, in very close tandem with David Alden to take a fresh look at Peter Grimes, just partly from perspective of what would follow later on from Britten. In assessing Gardner, supported by excellent orchestral playing throughout, I had to rethink a few criticisms I wrote down during Act One. Whereas there may have been some extra pushing and underlining of things, Gardner had really indeed the full and genuine impetus to do so in most instances.

Gardner, instead of guaranteeing us the cleanest or smoothest interaction between solo or choral and orchestral lines, made sure instead to point out, even irritatingly, the incongruity of interacting or confronting lines, for instance during Grimes telling Balstrode of day his first apprentice died. Motion of the waves in play with the steady, oblivious slow sea shanty of village folk at dawn Gardner also clearly delineated as musically incongruious, musically, but also in essence depicting the fragmented, tense state of village affairs. Britten said that he saw the townspeople in Grimes, as to their character and lives, as not so much shaped by the sea openly in their midst; they would indeed be the same anywhere one might put them. There was a claustrophobic feel to this performance, but observing parameters within which this work can still live and breathe – to readily be able to open out for moments of real pause for reflection on either what is happening or even well beyond what we see onstage.

Has there ever been a keener ear for clash of tonal centers in Peter Grimes between those one associates with the vision of Grimes and manner of the Borough than this? There was constantly here a full sense of the overtones infusing much Britten, of those pitches not written out, almost crying out to have been anyway. Gardner used such insight to enhance both the visceral quality of the drama and of Britten's music, as opposed to taking instead a heavy breathing method of doing so, rendering Grimes product of much tired cliché. Gardner very adeptly maintained wax and wane, natural ebb and flow all the way through. As opposed however to moment of repose that Runnicles found for Act Two, Scene 1 at the Met last year, Gardner ratcheted up the musical, dramatic tension of what indeed is the central scene here dramatically; action during this scene strongly helps catapult this tragedy forward.

The six sea interludes took on a dignity, nobility most unaffectedly almost unsurpasssably. Where there was the second or third mile to take to secure this, Gardner went there. Harmonic semi-tone clash at very end of Act 2 - with traces of Passacaglia still lingering most prominently in solo viola - extended out music we heard fifteen minutes earlier to the very end of the last phrase - sound still hovering all about to end of Act Two. Duet of French horns starting Act Two was emulated precisely expected bells ringing forth on a Sunday morning. The passacaglia, even with hard push made through its second and/or third variations, maintained fine poise and dignity. Gardner sprung rhythms very tight during Storm; contrastingly, the very peaceful yet simultaneously and insinuatingly ominous ‘Midnight’ starting Act Three Gardner characterized very well – with simplicity of an unable to be spoken meditative quality. Gardner also gave the sixth, unnamed Grimes interlude -incidence of fragmentation therein - a searing intensity – entirely up until very moment ball the orchestra drops out for final scene Grimes opens alone.

Stuart Skelton, with the intensity he brought to the title role, reminded one of Jon Vickers. He played Grimes alternatively as servile, deferential to his community, and very frightened. One might have asked for just slightly more space between lines during the mad scene. All both from looking deep within and intently at Peter Grimes score throughout Skelton made clearly heard. His voice, like Vickers, might not be ideally lyrical, from composer’s point of view, but he held what rough edge inherent to it in check. He thus fully evoked reverie within ‘the Great Bear and the Pleiades’ and then ‘dreams aria’ in Act Two, without employing quite as elaborate a range of nuance Vickers had commanded before. A greater simplicity of attack and with delivering numerous lines here, keeping Grimes still the rough fisherman, was very affecting.

Moments of violence in front of Balstrode during Act One – Grimes’ insistence on staying outdoors - and to close Act Two scene with Ellen Orford became nearly as terrifying as had it been Vickers. Heavy voice such as that of Skelton became entirely at service of both music and drama at hand. Skelton saw, slightly more than Vickers, feeling of extra need, even desire to conform to borough expectations – need to abnormally obsess over practical matters - in how he infused numerous lines. His dragging the beat emulating a distracted mind during ‘Old Joe has gone fishing’ indicated how immersed Skelton had by then become.

Amanda Roocroft made a very affecting Ellen Orford, even if occasionally slightly tremulous up high. Brokenness over predominantly the plight of Peter Grimes and of the new boy became forefront. Roocroft also made entreaty to a stubborn and resistant Grimes most imploring right before tragedy would strike yet again. Her standing up early on to the borough conveyed equally strong resolve, indicating woman not yet unmoored from hope of fixing what is at hand.

Gerald Finley, at behest of David Alden, played Captain Balstrode somewhat unconventionally as a young man. Doing so paid off interesting dividends. Balstrode’s gravitas as such, but by now a cliché and often somewhat tired one at that, may have been diminished slightly, but Balstrode’s empathy for Grimes Finley made complete at about every juncture. Balstrode's sense of humor, light of the character having been through some real experience himself, Finley made vigorously emerge - as episodically that of Ned Keene. Keene’s dealing, as in good voice, with Mrs Sedley, Auntie and the Nieces, was a natural to Leigh Melrose and very witty indeed. Balstrode’s closing lines, while confronting situation well beyond what he can fully assess or comprehend - in the questioning tone and character Finley provided for moment to speak them - were torture to the listener. Balstrode ended up here near as much victim therein as anybody.

The whiney, androgynous sounding Bob Boles of Michael Colvin was very insipidly funny, whereas so easy to mistake for Mrs. Sedley. The hectoring, church style intoned Swallow of Matthew Best, alongside sonorous Hobson of Darren Jeffrey and banal friendly Rector of Stuart Kale, was equally humorous - with Swallow showing up in the first scene of Act 3 for barn dance in pink tutu over greasy suit. The two nieces, fine otherwise, became shrill during Act Two quartet with Ellen and Auntie. Rebecca dePont Davies, with great knack, took Auntie a little over the top, in sounding terribly inebriated while engaged in some pontificating. She then very adeptly took on the very experienced, incisive Mrs. Sedley of Felicity Palmer. Choral work was not quite ideal, but paragon of stability next to recent outings for Royal Opera choral forces.

Begging pardon for overlooking much fine work from ENO orchestral principals, there is one last musician to mention - David Alden. He was nearly as responsible for this having been the musical success this was as much as a dramatic one. He spoke interviewed, in manner however mildly misunderstood; I am sure David will not take umbrage. For David, Britten’s Peter Grimes speaks to the gay consciousness of the time; David then briefly related the difference between how things were while growing up and how they are now.

There should likely be no issue with how David speaks on this. I however find, fully acknowledging David, and his professionalism, something mildly disingenuous. One listened in vain on BBC for common mannerisms with choral outburst of ‘Home’ at the end of Act One and ‘Him who despises us’ in Act Three - instead all played straight. Alden could, by numerous means have insisted otherwise; so secure he is however in getting what he really wants, he did not. Alden also spoke in metaphor of Peter and the sea, as of tempest on boil within both. He helped choreograph ‘Old Joe’ during Act One abstractly along lines of what one might see from ‘Grandma’ (Ruth Berghaus) several decades ago - with healthy dose of American vernacularism thrown right in. It so effectively made something stiff, even geometric out of this, while maintaining very imaginatively much heightened musical and dramatic tension. Acoustical spacing of the apprentice boy’s scream right before Act Two ended also had to be very exact.

David Alden so successfully universalized the message of Peter Grimes, conforming well - clarified in Claire Seymour’s Britten’s operas survey - with what Peter Pears has notably said numerous times – of the supposed homosexuality of Grimes not being an issue; Pears said he did not consider it there in the first place. At issue here was not so much sexual preference per se, or oppression against such, but the issue of self-expression, the ability to see and live unencumbered in a visionary way. On the flip side, there is the compulsion to conform to equally codified, arbitrary standards in any society, including that of our very own.

Britten, as Seymour has also implied, in including a level of sexual overtone in his writing for the part of Grimes, may have behaved self-incriminatingly with including such into portrayal of originally the character out of George Crabbe. Take for instance even Grimes’s manic insistence on need to conform to Borough expectations and to be accepted. David fortunately in full intellectual acumen, great confidence and experience at his disposal, seems to have abstained somewhat. Not having yet seen this production, it is tricky to comment on the claustrophobia of the stage design as presented at ENO.

I may have come down a little hard on the Met’s new Doyle production last season. Difference between these two, from just hearing both, was that one settled for mere formula of stagecraft. David though was content only with being able to take all of Peter Grimes head-on - with strong yet subtle knack at it - much as he would have us face it. The failure, expressed here the best I have ever heard it in many years, of all ending in a combination of utter hopelessness, oblivion for, yes, deranged but simply noble a character as Grimes - with continuum to issue forth from following daybreak - was heartrending. The truth of what is still a problem, must rear its ugly head most likely numerous times again, before we may ever ‘get it.’

May we see this on dvd, also Jenufa from ENO, starring Roocroft, which may have first been presented by Houston Grand Opera. This goes down, as even taking one back a good thirty year, in still a new way a most meaningful encounter. Anything comparable recently may only include very recent revival of Messiaen's St. Francois - and Il Trittico last year from Milan.